16. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
M ICAH
The second Carly is out of earshot, Ally delivers a swift, painful thwack to my arm.
“Ow.” I grasp my arm, feigning pain. “That hurt, Ally.”
Her eyes glitter menacingly. “I’m going to hurt you a lot worse if you don’t tell me what’s going on here. Who is that?”
“I already told you. She’s my fiancée,” I tease. “Or were you not listening?”
She narrows her eyes suspiciously, but I merely waggle my eyebrows in response.
I didn’t necessarily expect to meet Ally at this party, but it’s a good thing I did. No one knows how to spread gossip better than good old Ally Wilcox nee Petrova.
Her family is old money, and they move in pretty much the same circles as my grandfather, so news will get back to him in no time.
“I was paying attention,” Ally responds, “but I’ve also known you since we were practically in diapers. There is no way Micah Landing, the whore of the seven seas, is getting married. Not without some serious intervention. Right, Jamie?”
Jameson nods, and his wife uses it as a confidence boost. She crosses her arms over her chest.
“Look, what’s going on? Is this a scheme of yours? Is she an actress you hired?”
“You think I would go as far as to propose to someone for a scheme?”
Her face shows her slight doubt but she shakes it off. “I mean that seems more believable than you getting married. I thought hell would freeze over before that happened.”
I shrug. “Well, I’m not going to pretend like it was entirely my choice.’
“Aha! I knew there was a catch.”
I grin. “My grandfather and I had ‘the talk.’ He thinks it’s time for me to settle down and… I can’t help but agree with him. I’m nearly forty, and not getting any younger. The whole party boy lifestyle is getting old, and I don’t want to be the single fifty-year-old still chasing his youth at the club.”
“Ah.” She nods sagely. “So this is some kind of arranged marriage situation.”
“Not at all,” I say. “I like Carly. We’ve known each other for a few years already and we meet up whenever I travel. It’s always a fun time with her. Now I’m not going to say that we’re a match made in heaven or anything, but I like her more than I’ve ever liked anyone else I’ve been with.” I pause on that thought, realizing that it’s not a total lie. I try to recall any woman who has affected me as much as Carly, someone who I enjoy spending time with as much as I do with her, and I can’t. No one even compares. Odd, considering I’ve only known Carly a short while.
I shake my head. “Anyway, she ticks all the boxes so far. So why not marry her?”
Ally and Jameson share a look, before turning back to me.
“You don’t love her?” Jameson sounds almost saddened by the news.
I shrug. “Between you and me, I’m not sure I’m capable of love. And you know in our circles, love marriages like yours are hard to come by.” Jameson and Ally’s relationship is a rare occurrence in high society. They were best friends turned high school sweethearts, with Jameson having held a torch for her most of his life. Ally finally returned his affection somewhere around the 11th grade after Jameson shot up several inches and grew respectable facial hair. They’ve been in love and inseparable ever since.
But I don’t expect to find anything like that with anyone else I know.
Most people in our circles marry for mutual benefit and to forge powerful connections. That’s it.
“So who is she?” Ally says. “To win your grandpa’s approval, she can’t be any ordinary socialite, right?”
“Oh no. I’m not falling for that.” I shake my head. “As far as everyone is concerned, Carly is just a normal girl. A downright nobody, in fact.”
“Bullshit.” I’ve laid enough seeds that Ally’s eyes are now glittering with curiosity. “Oh, come on. Tell us. You know I can keep a secret.”
Oh, Ally, my dear, you absolutely cannot.
I sigh for dramatic effect. “I really can’t go into it, Ally. It’s not my secret to tell.”
“But we won’t tell anyone. And I’m not going to leave you alone until I hear the secret. You know how much of a pest I can be when I want to. Right, Jamie?”
Jamie murmurs something that’s somehow both an affectionate assent and a fervent denial.
I inhale deeply and pretend like she’s backed me into a corner. “Fine. I’ll tell you one thing but you have to promise that this doesn’t leave here. It’s just between the three of us.
“Of course.” Eagerness glows in her expression. “We can keep a secret. Right, Jamie?”
Jamie simply throws her an amused look that she misses, because she’s entirely focused on me and this hot new piece of gossip I’m about to share with her.
“Carly is…” I pretend to struggle with the words. “Look, her family is really important. European royalty, but kept highly under wraps due to the circumstances of her birth. That’s all I can say without giving everything away, and Carly would kill me if even this much got out. They’re all extremely private people.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it, my lips are sealed.” Her eyes track behind me to where Carly must have gone. “So she’s royalty huh? No wonder.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, curious.
Ally shakes her head but then admits. “She has the look of it. Also has this guardedness about her, like she’s constantly on the lookout or something. Holds herself a little stiff too, but isn’t prissy and doesn’t speak like she thinks she’s better than anyone. Just cautious. Must be her family upbringing.”
“Right.” I follow her gaze. Ally has no idea how on the money she is with that description. I’ve also noticed the same thing about Carly, that apart from the moments when we’re having sex, she has this wall up most of the time. Sometimes it’s more subtle and she hides it behind jokes and eye rolls. Other times, like tonight, it’s more apparent.
And from what little I know about her family, I have no doubt that it’s their fault she’s so guarded. She grew up knowing she couldn’t trust them to watch out for her, and so she’s always had to watch out for herself. Probably had to protect herself from them too.
The thought of little Carly watching her father stumble home drunk, or seeing her cousin dragged off to jail makes me irrationally furious.
I guess that’s one thing I can do for her before this is over. Make sure she has enough money to be self-sufficient and able to cut her family off for good.
Yeah, it may not be my business, but I’m making it my business. I want her away from them, one way or another.
She’s not going to like it though.
“I better make sure my bride-to-be hasn’t gone in the wrong direction,” I say. Mostly though, I’m concerned that all this has been too overwhelming for Carly and she’s hyperventilating in the bathroom. She seemed okay walking in here. Regal in fact. She held up well despite all the eyes on her.
But I think maybe she got more attention than she bargained.
That old Hollywood look of hers and that dress caressing her curves made her hard to ignore. It’s definitely been distracting me as we walked in here, that and her subtle perfume.
The thing we have to be careful of though is cameras. I can’t risk her getting photographed, or someone might be able to do a little bit of digging and find out the truth about her origins. Sure, Carly doesn’t have social media and Laketown is pretty isolated, but still. Someone might recognize her and risk this whole thing.
I brought her to this party to be seen, but not exactly remembered. She’s supposed to be the enigma that disappears at the end of the night. Micah Landing’s mysterious new woman. That’s what the gossip should say.
And to that end, we only need to spend maybe half an hour here before we go.
As I leave Ally and Jamie and head to the side of the hallway, voices immediately begin to drift to me. The male one reaches me first, angry and tremulous.
“Who the hell do you think you are to interfere? You don’t even have a clue what’s going on here, do you?”
“I don’t care what’s going on here. You don’t hit people or harass them for what was clearly a mistake.”
The second voice is Carly’s, and I frown as I get closer and the man’s voice rises threateningly.
“Listen, woman. Do you have any idea who I am? You’re lucky I’m being nice now, but you better get out of here before I ruin your fucking life.”
“No problem. I’ll get out of your hair. But she’s coming with me.”
When I turn the corner, I finally see the woman that Carly’s talking about, a server that seems to be throwing Carly alarmed looks from her cowering position against the wall. Below her is broken glass and I put two and two together to figure out what happened here. The man looming over the server has a stain on his Tom Ford suit, and wrath stamped on his face.
He’s much larger than the server, and larger than Carly too, although most of his weight is distributed in his belly. He doesn’t seem to see me arrive, too focused on glaring at Carly, so I lean against the wall to observe.
“She made a mistake,” Carly says slowly as though she’s explaining something to a child. “It happens. But you trying to hit her because of it is completely unacceptable.”
The man gives a bitter laugh. “Oh really? And who the fuck are you to tell me what I can or cannot do? That woman got wine on my ten-thousand-dollar jacket.”
Carly runs her eyes over his clothes disinterestedly. “It’ll come out. Probably.”
Ha. I almost snort at that.
The man’s face turns red with apoplectic rage.
“I’ll give you an address. You can send the bill there,” Carly continues and I’m further impressed. She’s doing a very good impression of a casual, unaffected socialite who has money to burn. She’s a better actress than I thought.
“The stain won’t come out, moron,” he says. “This is prime silk. A Zegna.”
“Oh, is that it? Then get a new jacket and send that bill to me.”
Oooh. She’s having fun playing with my money.
I don’t mind at all. It’s actually kind of hot to watch her like this. I find her audaciousness sexy, and I want to watch her throw more money at the problem.
But then the asshole takes a step toward her, snapping me out of my revery as an alarm shoots through me. Fury too as I realize he’s trying to get close enough to hit her.
“Touch her and die.” The words growl out of my mouth, and all three people turn around to stare at me.
“I’m serious,” I say and even though I try to talk casually, my voice has dropped into a deadly register and my fists are clenched at my side. “You lay one finger on her and I will kill you.”
The man hesitates, fear flashing across his face, mixing in with the anger. He swallows, breathing hard through his nostrils, sizing me up.
And then, his sense probably returns as he mutters, “I don’t fucking need this,” before stalking off, trembling with anger.
I make a note to myself to find out who that man is and make a point to ruin his life. For trying to hit a woman, and then trying to hit my woman. And for calling her a moron on top of it.
“You okay?” I ask Carly, who’s staring at me now, her boldness turning bashful.
“Yeah,” she answers. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”
“No biggie. I’m the only one who saw it. Plus, it was fun to watch until the end.”
She nods and looks back at the server, who is now kneeling hastily picking up the broken glass from the floor.
“Hey,” Carly calls her attention softly. “Are you doing okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
She seems surprised that Carly is addressing her and then nods. “No, he didn’t hurt me. Although, he’ll probably get me fired after this.”
“That won’t happen,” I say to her and she turns to me. “I can assure you of it.” I know the owner of this hotel and can pretty much ensure that she keeps her job. “What’s your name?”
“Clara,” she says. “Clara Romano.”
I nod and say, “You won’t be losing your job, Clara Romano.”
She swallows and offers me a small smile. “Thank you.”
Carly tries to help the woman pick up the pieces of glass, but she waves Carly off insistently, then rushes off before we can say anything else. After, Carly finally uses the bathroom. Then we head back to the party.
The grand ballroom is already full by this point with people swarming around the dance floor, talking in groups, or waltzing to the orchestra on stage. Goody bags sit to the side, meant for the guests upon leaving. Servers glide about with drinks on their trays, eagle-eyed and searching for beckoning guests.
Carly stiffens as she takes it all in, and her expression begins to look distinctly uncomfortable.
“Relax,” I say. “We’re just going to mingle a little, have a little wine, and then we leave.”
“For how long?”
“Maybe ten, thirty minutes. Here…” I snag two wine glasses from a passing server’s tray and hand one of them to her. “Have some wine. Relax.”
She downs that glass in a few seconds flat and then finishes off my glass too. Only then does she begin to visibly ease up. We find Jamie and Ally again and spend most of the time talking to them with Jamie and Carly being mostly quietly attentive, and Ally and me doing most of the talking.
In any case, thirty minutes pass pretty quickly and before we know it, we’re saying our goodbyes and stepping out through the back to avoid the paparazzi.
“Ah,” she says as she turns her face to the sky, a gentle breeze ruffling her hair, and surrounding me in the smell of pine. “Freedom at last.”
I laugh. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“No, it wasn’t.” She sounds surprised to admit. “It was kind of fun. And your friends aren’t as snobby as I thought they would be. But it is nice to be out.” She finally turns to the goody bag in her hand. “I wonder what’s in here.”
“Probably jewelry.” That’s usually the types of goodies we get. “Something basic. Maybe a Cartier bracelet, or a Rolex.”
“That’s basic to you?” She says in amazement, pulling out the box. Turns out I’m right. It is a Rolex.
She opens up the box and analyzes it.
“How much do you think this costs?” she asks.
“This isn’t a super expensive model. Maybe twenty thousand. Why?”
She stares at me. “Can we go to a pawnshop? I think I saw one on the way here and it might still be open.”
“Why?”
“Because I can think of a few things I want more than a watch.”
I shake my head. “Yeah, but you’re going to get lowballed at a pawnshop. Better to resell it online.”
She shakes her head. “No. It has to be done today.”
“What do you need the money for?” I cock my head. “If you need it urgently, I can just send it to you.”
“No. This is something I have to do myself and I have to do it today.”
After a few more minutes of back and forth, during which Carly stubbornly sticks to her guns, we take the limo to a pawnshop that Carly saw, and fortunately for her, it is open. Carly isn’t a bad haggler and manages to sell the watch for close to its original price of eighteen thousand. And then she directs us to a twenty-four-hour grocery store next, in order to buy canned food of all things.
She refuses to explain to me what they’re for. And by the time, I realize what she’s doing it’s already too late.
“There’s a food bank around the corner, walking distance,” she says when we step out of the store, with both arms full of grocery bags. She has a smile that shines brighter than the moon. “Let’s go.”